The Magical Maiden
by DaniNatureGirl391
Summary: Rebecca Sweetnam has a secret, one that even she didn't know about.


_**AN: I'd love any input my readers can give me, on how to weave my OC into the storyline. I will include flashbacks, just like the show does. I just need to do some re-watching of certain episodes, as a reminder of dialogue. I also plan to keep her true identity a secret from everyone for a long while.**_

Samantha had never expected things to turn out this way. Forced into poverty at the age of sixteen, and then forced to do unspeakable things to drag herself out of said poverty. Hearing her bedroom door creak open, her back became rod-straight. She turned around, right as he stepped fully into the light. His appearance made her pause, but only briefly. The shadowy aura radiated off of him, leaving her no doubt as to who this was. Swallowing hard, she took a couple tentative steps forward. She gave a slight curtsey of respect, knowing it was best to stay on his good side.

She said only, "Dark One."

His sharp giggle sent a chill down her spine.

"No need to stand on ceremony, dearie. I am from rrroyal."

The corner of her mouth twitched in the tiniest of smiles.

She told him, "I like speaking bluntly, as well. There's only one reason a man would come to _my_ door at this hour."

She'd slipped into the false personality most of the other girls had.

His response, however, was anything but typical: "I'm not a man."

She scrunched up her face, before shrugging her shoulders and moving to light a candle. She could feel his amber eyes on her, as she struck the match. Turning around, she asked him what was wrong.

"Perhaps, it is _I_ , who should be asking _you_ that question."

"Whatever do you mean?"

He walked closer to her and said, "There's...something different about you. When I first walked in, I saw the shudder you made. I take it that means being a lady of the night was never your ultimate life desire."

"Well, of course, it wasn't! What woman, in her right mind, would dream of this?"

She didn't know why she felt that sudden urge to speak to him in such a way, but a part of her was grateful. It'd been a long while, since she'd been allowed to share her true feelings about her situation.

Another giggle was followed by, "I like your spunk. So, if all this", and he gestured at the room, "isn't your grrreatest wish...what is?"

"Pardon?"

"You heard me correctly. What is your greatest ambition? I can make it happen-"

"For a price, I know. Perhaps, we're not so different. We're both people of buisiness."

"It doesn't have to be that way."

Rumplestiltskin didn't know why he was being so sensitive. Maybe, it was because he, too, knew what it felt like to be at the end of your proverbial rope.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "Why don't we make a trade? One answer for another."

"Explain."

"I'll tell you _my_ big dream, if you tell me what first brought you to my door."

"Hmm...and you want nothing else from me? No rrrriches? No wealthy nobleman to sweep you off your feet?"

He watched her sit on the bed, and he surprised himself by joining her. A small smile bloomed on her face. She knew that, if he was now acting so comfortable around her, he was going to agree.

She told him, "I don't want anything major, by most peoples' standards. I do want stability, but wealth isn't important. I want a husband who loves me, and children I adore. Surely, you can understand why that would make me hesitant to make a deal with you."

He did, indeed, understand. In most of his transactions with women, the price for his help was to take the firstborn child. But for this, he sensed an alternative path was in order. She watched as his scheming gaze softened, and an odd sense of vulnerability came over his features. What had brought that on?

She got her answer seconds later: "I lost a son many years ago. This night is the anniversary of that", and his voice re-gained some cynical edge, "Forgive me, for wanting a little solace."

"So, you _are_ a man, then. Only a normal man would care about such things as emotional comfort."

"Look at me, dearie", and he gestured at his body, "Do I rrrealy look normal to you?"

Giggling, she draped her left arm across his chest and replied, "We shall see."

She gently pulled him down to the mattress, and both of them were able to forget their worldly burdens for a while. He stayed until roughly two hours before sunrise, keeping secret how nice it felt to wake up next to someone. How long had it truly been, since he'd experienced that? Then, he rolled over, and the daze was shattered as he glimpsed a mess of dark hair. In this dim lighting, it looked almost black. Images flashed through his mind in quick succession of the women who'd betrayed him: Milah, Cora...he couldn't take it anymore. He immediately stood up, redressing himself with a quick wave of his hand. Samantha must've been a light sleeper, because she woke up as soon as his weight left the bed.

"Rumplestiltskin?"

"I must go now, dearie. And so must you."

"W-What...What do you mean", she asked, as she stood and rubbed the gluey feeling from her eyes.

With another flourish of his hand, a large, heavy bag appeared at his feet. It made a jingling noise, when he picked it up and threw it to her.

He said, "This should get you started on the rrrright foot. If you leave before sunup, the owner of this establishment will not be able to send someone after you."

This was beyond generous. Her face displayed her shock.

So did her voice: "Why are you doing this?"

"Because..."

He paused to search for an answer. He found it in a long-ago memory, sitting at a table with a very old friend.

That friend's words poured from his own mouth: "Because I know how to recognize a desperate soul. You want your freedom, dearie? I'm giving it to you. And don't worry. You'll find your twoo love, as well. _This_ will see to that."

He waved his left hand over her wrist, and a bracelet appeared on it. It was made of thin gold filigree, and it was studded with pink pearls.

"What will _this_ do?"

"Why, it'll help you find Mr. Right, of course. Did I not just say that?"

"How does it work?"

"When you meet him, it'll briefly burn your skin as if you'd just been struck by Cupid's arrow. After that, it'll just be an ordinary bracelet."

"And...and he'll..."

He rolled his eyes and said, "Yes. Yes. He'll stay. In fact, he'll be the sweetest, most accepting, tender-hearted man anyone could ever meet."

Samantha didn't know what to say. If this were some sort of show, violins and flutes likely would've been playing right now. She swallowed hard, trying to force back the tears that threatened to spill. Ordinarily, a sight like this would've brought Rumplestiltskin close to vomiting. But for some reason, he felt only contentment. He wanted her to be genuinely happy, without the cloud of a debt hanging over her. Maybe, this was his gift of foresight, kicking in. But regardless of the true reason, they were wasting time, and tendrils of discomfort were starting to creep their way in. Clearing his throat, he slowly walked towards the door. He paused mid-step, though, when she called for him.

"Thank you, Rumplestiltskin. I mean that genuinely."

"I know you do, dearie. I know you do."

He wasn't lying. Wanting to be polite, he didn't flinch when she reached over and grabbed his hand. She squeezed it once, before quickly letting go.

"Um...this might seem like a silly question, but...will we ever see you again?"

He knew the "we" she was referring to meant her husband-to-be and possible children. Another image crossed his mind, this time of the queen he'd manipulate to cast his curse. Regina's future vindictive streak would take him to Bae, but he couldn't let Samantha know that. His eyes met hers again, and he gave a slight huff as the corner of his mouth twitched up.

He said, "Perhaps, you will...in some other world."

They were both giggling, as he vanished in a cloud of purple smoke. Samantha wasn't laughing a few weeks later, though, when she jogged off into a circle of bushes and threw up her breakfast. When she finished, she sat on the ground to catch her breath. As she thought back, a scary realization flooded through her. She'd missed her cycle, and she was well-past the wiggle-room phase. Her hand instantly flew to her stomach. What was she going to do? Obviously, she couldn't contact Rumplestiltskin to tell him the news. Well, she could, but she feared his combined anger and disbelief. He could claim she was trying to scam him in some way. She could just picture it now, all the accusations of how she couldn't possibly know who the real father was. And her baby...oh, her poor, defenseless baby. He or she would need a father. Samantha burst into tears, not caring about the footsteps that were approaching her resting spot.

Then, she winced, as it suddenly felt like a branding iron had been pressed to her wrist. A shadow fell over her, and she turned around with wide eyes.

"Are you alright, miss?"

The man standing over her had sandy-blond hair and murky hazel eyes. His skin was tanned from hours spent, working in the sun, and a faint strip of freckles could be seen across the bridge of his nose.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Vincent."

Her heart fluttered. The burning from her bracelet briefly intensified, before stopping completely. She remembered what Rumplestiltskin had told her, how the painful sensation would occur when she met her true love. She hadn't expected to meet him so soon, though. Vincent kindly helped her to her feet, and he again asked her what was wrong. She couldn't very well tell him the truth. He'd likely call her insane and run away, and with him would go her one chance for happiness.

So, she told him the only story that seemed plausible: "I...I've been abandoned."

Her eyes went to the ground, adding to the sad effect.

"Abandoned by whom?"

"A man, who was supposed to love me. But he just used me", and her voice cracked, before she continued, "He took what he wanted and left. I really thought he was different, but he...h-he just..."

"Shh, milady. It's going to be alright."

Putting a supportive, comforting arm around her, he led her back into the town proper. It took a solid month, before the pair realized how deeply in love they were and decided to marry. By that point, he already knew of her pregnancy.

Samantha's heart warmed, each time she recalled his words about that: "It's love that makes a family, not blood. As far as anyone else will know, including us, the child will be mine."

Ten years passed, and their little family grew. The couple had two children together, a daughter named Amelia and a son named Jacob. They were well-loved and looked after by their elder sibling. Samantha never ceased to be amazed, each time she watched her oldest child...her precious daughter. She'd named the girl Rhian, a nod to her secret magical origins. She was so intrigued by the features that emerged over time: the wavy golden-brown hair, the thin fingers and jaw, and the almond-shaped, brandy-colored eyes. She couldn't shake the feeling of why, but she felt in her gut that all of those traits had come from Rumplestiltskin. She wondered what he'd think of her, if he'd be proud of how she'd been raised. Still, Samantha knew Rhian was far too young to understand what it meant to be the Dark One's daughter. So, for now, she tried to keep her away from anything connected with him.

One particular day, she was helping her husband set up for a picnic. She smiled, listening to her children laugh and play in the field behind them. She mixed the ingredients for the soup, while Vincent chopped some firewood to cook with. While they were distracted, the ball that the children had been playing with rolled downhill.

"It's alright", Rhian told her brother and sister, "I'll get it."

Hiking up her skirt so she wouldn't trip, she jogged off after the ball. It came to rest against a tall tree in the center of a clearing. When she reached down to pick it up, somehing odd caught her attention. Just beyond some nearby mountains, she could see the tops of three towers. She smiled, knowing towers usually meant castles. It'd been a long time, since she'd seen one. She'd barely taken a few steps towards it, when she was stopped by her eight-year-old brother.

Jacob ran towards her and said, "Don't do it! Kids are supposed to stay away from that castle. All the grownups say a monster lives in it."

"How do you even know what a monster looks like?"

"Doesn't matter. I don't want you to get in trouble with Mummy and Daddy."

"Fine. Fine. I'm right behind you."

Rhian sighed as she followed him out of the clearing, hoping her parents hadn't noticed her brief disappearance. Just before completely leaving the forest, she stole one last glance over her shoulder. From there, she could just barely make out the tops of the castle's towers. She cocked her head to the side, a barely-audible sigh escaping her.

She said to herself, "I wonder if monsters ever get lonely."

She wouldn't get the answer to that question for another ten years.

 _ **AN: The girl's name is pronounced "ree-ann", & it actually does mean "magic maiden". Also, the first chapter will begin in the seconds before the curse is cast, & it'll skip to roughly around the time of Emma's arrival. **_


End file.
